A MOTHER'S FURY: MADAM ELSPETH ZAWOSHKY
1504 Words
The ride home did not feel longer than it should have.
The guy sat at the back of the first black car, his shoulders slightly hunched as the convoy made its way through the city.
The bodyguards kept stealing glances at him in the rearview mirror, as if they were worried he might suddenly leap out.
“Young Master,” one of them said carefully, “it might be wise to prepare yourself.”
“For what?” he muttered, though he already knew the answer.
“Madam Elspeth,” the man replied.
A sigh escaped him.
For all the consequences he expected from getting drunk, waking up in a stranger’s apartment was not on the list. Losing his phone was annoying. Being found by his bodyguards was slightly embarrassing. But having to face his mother?
That was the part he dreaded most.
The car slowed as they approached the grand gates of the Zawoshky Estate, a place of controlled luxury, polished stone, and silent guards who stood straighter than lamp posts.
The iron gates opened like the mouth of a beast welcoming him back into its stomach.
He stepped out of the car and immediately felt the weight of tension in the air.
The maids and staff weren’t moving. They were standing there like a frozen statue, lined up in two rows along the path like witnesses expecting his dramatic arrival.
"This was not a good sign!". He swallowed tightly. "Where is she?” he asked one of the guards.
The man didn’t even pretend to hide his fear. “In the main hall, sir.”
Of course she was. Waiting for a storm that she refused to pass.
He walked across the marble floor of the entrance hall, every footstep echoing like a countdown. His chest tightened with each step. No matter how old he was, even at twenty-eight, a successful heir, the Young Master of a vast empire, facing his mother always made him feel like a child again. A child who had disappointed her.
When the doors to the main hall were open.
She was there, Madam Elspeth Zawoshky, his mother.
She stood in the center of the room, dressed in a deep emerald gown that highlighted the sharpness of her posture. Her hair, pinned in a flawless bun, did nothing to soften her expression. Elspeth Zawoshky was a woman carved from elegance and discipline, and right now, she looked terrifying.
He barely had time to breathe.
"SLAP!"
The sound cracked like lightning across the hall.
His head jerked to the side. He tasted a faint hint of like an iron.
The staff collectively stiffened as what they witnessed.
But before he could react...
"SLAP!"
The second one struck the other cheek, precise and merciless.
“Mother...” he began, rubbing his throbbing face.
“You drowned yourself in alcohol?!” Elspeth’s voice thundered, breaking the silence like a storm wave against the rock. “You vanished for 24 hours?! You turned off your GPS, your phone, and your brain along with it?!”
He winced. “I didn’t..."
“You did!” Her voice shook with fury and fear, the rare combination that made her all the more terrifying.
“Do you know what I went through? I thought something happened. I thought you were kidnapped. I thought...” Her voice trembled. She looked away for a moment, fighting whatever emotion threatened to crack her composure.
Then she inhaled sharply. "And all of this,” she continued, her tone sharpening into steel, “because of a woman...”
He stiffened. "Mother…”
“No.” Her glare cut through him. “Do not deny it. I know you. I raised you. And the only thing foolish enough to make you disappear for a day is your heart.”
He closed his eyes.
He didn’t want to talk about it. Not now. Not when he was still drowning in the memories. Not when the pain of losing her was still fresh as a bruise on his ribs.
Elspeth stepped closer, her heels clicking against the floor.
“You loved her,” she said. A sharper than any blade. "And she left.”
His fists clenched, and his breath trembled out of him. Yet he didn't say anything, he didn't need to explain, because he didn’t have to.
She already knew.
“What did I teach you?” Elspeth demanded.
He swallowed. "To stand.”
“And what are you doing?”
“…Falling.” she said. "Aldrich Kim!”
His eyes snapped open. Because his mother rarely called his name. That full name.
“Aldrich Kim” she called again in firmer voices.
“You are stronger than this. You are MY son. A Zawoshky. You do not collapse over heartbreak.”
He laughed softly, bitter and quiet. "Even Zawoshky's pet can bleed, Mother.”
“But we do not drown,” Elspeth countered.
Silence rippled through the room. Her voice finally softened..
“Aldrich… love is not worth dying over. No woman is worth your life.”
His jaw tightened. “She was worth something.”
“Then mourn,” she said, “but do not destroy yourself.”
He looked away. "You think I wanted to fall apart?” he whispered. “You think I enjoy feeling like a hollow shell?”
Elspeth exhaled, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, they shone with a rare hint of vulnerability.
“I am angry,” she said quietly, “because I feared losing you. Because you remind me too much of your father.”
His breath caught.
She never spoke of him.
“Aldrich” she continued, “your father let heartbreak destroy him. He drowned himself in grief. And I will not watch you repeat his mistake.”
His chest tightened. The anger in her voice wasn’t just anger. It was fear... Fear of watching her son crumble the way her husband once did. Fear of reliving the same nightmare.
Aldrich had always known his mother was strict.
But he often forgot she was also human.
The silence grew heavier.
“Aldrich…” her voice softened even more, almost fragile. “You are all I have left.”
His throat constricted. Aldrich inhaled slowly, steadying himself.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For worrying you.”
Her eyes sparkled just a bit. Then, she stepped back, transforming into the Elspeth everyone recognized, poised, graceful, and seemingly out of reach.
“Good,” she said curtly. “Because tomorrow, you are returning to the office.”
He blinked. "What? Already?”
“Yes. Work will keep your mind occupied. Pain grows in idleness.”
“Mother...”
“No discussions.”
He sighed.
But perhaps… that wasn’t the worst plan.
“I will not watch you wither because of a broken heart,” she added. “You will rise. You will move forward. And you will remember who you are.”
He nodded slowly.
Then, surprisingly, Elspeth reached out and placed a hand on his cheek, the same cheek she slapped moments ago.
“Also,” she murmured, almost inaudibly, “never disappear like that again.”
“…I won’t.” Aldrich said.
“Good.” She said and slowly removed her palm from his face.Then her eyes sharpened again, as if remembering something.
“And next time you decide to drink yourself stupid, at least do not pick a bridge as your companion.”
He groaned. “Oh gosh, you heard about that?”
“Your bodyguards told me everything.”
“I told them not to!” Aldrich said.
“And I told them to ignore you.”
He glared at the staff, who suddenly found the ceiling very fascinating.
Then he rubbed his face. "I wasn’t planning to die, Mother. I was just...”
“Broken,” she finished for him. “But not dead. And I intend to keep it that way.”
He breathed out slowly. “Fine,” he murmured. “I’ll try.”
“No,” she corrected. “You will do.”
Aldrich smiled. As they stood in silence, the image of Hermelyn’s small apartment flashed in his mind... it was warm, and safe… so unlike this enormous, cold house.
Her tired eyes.Her stutter when she got flustered.
Her messy hair in the morning light.
Her kindness. Her bizarre bravery. Her innocence.
He didn’t even know why he remembered all those small details. He just did.
“Aldrich” his mother called suddenly, snapping him back.
“Yes?”
“You will cut ties with everything that keeps you in the past,” Elspeth ordered. “No lingering. No attachments. No more weakness.”
He hesitated. Because Hermelyn flashed in his mind again...
Elspeth’s eyes narrowed.
“You understand?”
He paused.
Then he answered immediately "Ah... Yes, Mother.”
But deep inside, Aldrich wasn’t sure. Because for the first time since his heartbreak…
There is something or rather someone... made him feel alive again.
- Writer
